I had this crazy idea that my fat ass needed to work out. Mind you, the last time I worked out was approximately 1 year ago and at this point, I could pick up a pack of water bottles and be sore afterwards. I mean like physically shaking. Unless you count the times I go up and down the stairs. Also, my doctor told me I really need to adopt a vegan diet and do some exercise, so I switched doctors. But nevertheless, I decided to start listening to the sound of my blood pressure throbbing in my ear and the diabetes building in my blood vessels, and thought maybe I should try to not die today. Boy, did I regret that decision.
This story was based on actual events from an actual person (me) and may not be suitable for younger audiences. See, we have a gym at work and I have been in this building for over a year now. So I go ignorantly skipping in to what looks like an old electrical room with mirrors (behind the machines – ?????) and it smells like absolute piss. I mean, 1-hundo-p a homeless man used to live in there, I’m sure of it. So, I go into the women’s bathroom to get changed. There are two sinks, some lockers, one toilet and two showers. The shower doors are CLEAR, so I can see what you’re really hiding under that dress, Karen. There is a scale in there that is really weirdly stuck on 202 pounds. It was getting really annoying because every time I stepped on it, it said the same thing!!! How will I ever know how much I weigh if it keeps saying 202 pounds when I get on it? Anyway, I go to use the bathroom and come out to wash my hands. The automatic soap dispenser wasn’t working and with all the sweat and homeless person pee in that place, I was not about to leave the bathroom without soap. Under the sink was a button that I assumed controlled the soap dispenser. I pressed it. BAD idea. The damn soap dispenser wouldn’t stop dispensing soap. Thankfully, I was the only one in the gym at that time. Soooo…. we’re just going to ignore that.
Next, I go out and get on the elliptical. I was surprisingly able to do 30 minutes on that bad boy, and not at all because there was a giant double bacon cheeseburger standing outside the window, waving “come and get me” from the parking lot. I was determined to do other things while I was at the gym, so after my “run”, I go to the stretch area and I lay face-down, like an over-weight starfish on a mat that was already on the ground. When I build up enough energy to begin stretching, I look around and realize there is no sanitation solution in the room. My face was literally laying in someone’s ball sweat, which I can’t complain too much because that is something I am not unaccustomed to. So I shake it off and stand up to do some squats. After about 5 of those, I thought my ass was really looking pretty good already. I wanted to do some crunches before I left so I did about 6 of those (on the same ball-sweat mat). And these were the kind where you lay with your arms back over your head and your legs straight out, not touching the ground, then you pass the big medicine ball from your hands to your feet, then straighten out, then from your feet to your hands, and repeat. This is how it is supposed to look:
This is how it actually looked:
At this point I am really feeling worn out and in need of a 7-day course of antibiotics and a pap smear. I worked out for a ~whole 45 minutes~ and I was proud so I took a snap-chat picture to send to all the boys that have ever slept with me (*and ghosted me) to remind them that I am still here. Well, I go back into the bathroom to wash up and collect my stuff and THE SOAP DISPENSER WAS STILL DISPENSING. I tried pressing the button again but it just made it come out faster. The whole counter top of the sink was covered in soap – like a whole bottle of soap. LOL OOPS. Luckily, I was still the only one in t – and here comes Karen… goddammit Karen.
This was 4 days ago. I still can’t poop, cough, sneeze, laugh or stand up straight. My FUPA hurts so bad I keep thinking I have diarrhea or period cramps. You don’t know how much you use your “abs” until you make the huge mistake of doing crunches. Anyway, I hope by the weekend I no longer feel sore from my 6 crunches and 6 squats. The only workout I want to do is FITNESS WHOLE PIZZA IN MY MOUTH, but I will always remember that one son-of-a-bitch Monday that I made the worst mistake of my life. So remember, my spiceful fiends, ALWAYS CHOOSE DYING OVER EXERTING ANY PHYSICAL EFFORT.